


bits & pieces

by cupofgenmaicha (orphan_account)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble dump, Forced Separation, Hacker AU, Hanahaki Disease, Idol! Hyunwoo, Implied Sexual Content, Kisses, M/M, Mafia AU, Mention of guns, Rapper! Changkyun, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fake dating au, pre-wedding jitters, recreational alcohol use, undercover cop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cupofgenmaicha
Summary: (I) scent; idol au, angst(II) yes or no; hacker au, fluff(III) rewind (let's not fall in love) pt. 1; fake dating au, angst, angst with a happy ending(IV) lost in the dream; angst(V) above the clouds; undercover cop, mafia au(VI) the only home (i want to know): bonus chapter; tooth-rotting fluff, implied sexual content, pre-wedding jitters(VII) camellia; mafia au, hanahaki disease





	1. scent

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of drabbles; some will be pieces of AUs I will probably never finish, while others will be fun extras that are part of existing AUs!
> 
> Please read the notes at the beginning of each drabble!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changkyun's scent lingers on his sheets. [idol au; angst]

The phone buzzes again, vibrating against his thigh. It’s the third time tonight and Hyunwoo pulls it out of his pocket, glancing down at the screen discreetly so as not to call his manager’s attention.

_Unlisted Number._

Hyunwoo’s stomach flips. He rejects the call, silently hoping that the caller will leave a message. Just so he can hear his voice again—because there is only one person who would be calling him from an unlisted number.

His knee begins to shake and he taps his finger against the table as his manager continues to drone on about the comeback, jittery and impatient for the meeting to be over. He feels a hand rest on his knee and he looks up into concerned eyes, his best friend silently asking if he’s okay.

 _I’m fine._ He smiles reassuringly and shakes his head so Hoseok will hopefully stop worrying.

Hoseok frowns, but drops his hand and they finish discussing the new single, “Mirror.” Hyunwoo nods and nods and nods, just wanting to get out of the fucking meeting.

“Do you want to get ramyeon with me?” Hoseok asks as they leave the stuffy room behind, his voice sounding loud in the empty hallway. The two singers have been practicing their comeback stage nonstop and finally have an evening free to relax—a rare luxury in the idol world. 

Normally, Hyunwoo would jump at the chance to hang out with his friend, leaving behind the pressures of work in the entertainment company’s corporate building, but his fingers are itching to check his phone. In private. “Not tonight,” he answers a little too brusquely, only drawing another concerned look from Hoseok. He shakes his head, sighing an apology. “With all the work we’ve been doing lately, I need a little time to myself. To walk by the Han or something.”

Hoseok settles a sympathetic hand on Hyunwoo’s forearm. “Is it him? Did he call you again?”

Hyunwoo tries to smile but ends up averting his gaze, grimacing down at his shoes instead. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He brushes off Hoseok’s hand and turns to leave, calling out over his shoulder, “I'll see you at home."

He pushes through the double doors and begins to walk. Directionless. The air is cold, heavy and wet with the promise of snow, and as he moves under the protection of a starless winter night, Hyunwoo feels some of the tension in his muscles begin to dissipate. He can almost convince himself that he really is going for a walk to let off some steam.

It isn’t until he’s a few blocks away from the building—ignored by other bundled-up Seoulites rushing to get inside, to defrost next to a heater—that he finally pulls out his phone to check if there is a message.

They were always so careful to never leave a trail thinking that it would somehow protect them. Oh, how wrong they were—

 _“Hyunwoo—it’s me,”_ his voice is instantly recognizable. Low. Velvety. It fills Hyunwoo’s lungs with woodsmoke and makes him physically ache. He walks into the nearest alley to lean against the wall. He closes his eyes against the world so that all he can hear is Changkyun’s voice—all he can see behind his eyelids are the rapper’s dark eyes looking at him with such intensity, he thinks that his skin will catch fire. _“It’s been three months and I still think about you every fuckin’ day.”_

They met a year ago on a night almost as cold as this one. Hyunwoo’s friend from high school was a DJ at a club in Hongdae and invited him to take a night off from idol life. Live a little. He had no way of knowing how that one decision would change the course of his life.

When he arrived, bundled in a wool coat, his face hidden behind a mask, it wasn’t very difficult to blend into the sea of people crushed up against the stage. The two rappers spat fire, volleying words and jagged syllables over the music. Hyunwoo didn’t follow the underground scene, at least not as closely as his friend Hyungwon, but the rappers were enthusiastic, loud and truly confident in a way that kept his eyes glued to the stage. More specifically, to the rapper with the black hair—it was long, tied up so the strands were out of his face. Silver gleamed around his wrist and tattoos seemed to peek out from underneath his thin white shirt, just to tease. He was surprised when the rapper’s gaze smoldered into his own—and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in years. Something that he thought the idol industry had ground out of him.

He _wanted._

_“God, I miss you. I want to touch you again. I want to hear your voice—”_

Just this morning Hyunwoo touched himself, imagining that his hand was Changkyun’s. He burned with memories of Changkyun fucking him slow and hard into the mattress, his lips searing praises into Hyunwoo’s skin. He could almost taste him on his tongue.

Hyunwoo came with Changkyun’s name on his lips and that only made the aftermath worse. No one was there to hold him. Or to laugh with him. Or to lean over to kiss him gently on the lips for no reason other than to feel close.

Changkyun wasn’t there.

It was in the shower that he finally let the tears silently slip down his cheeks, mixing with the water, all evidence swirling down the drain.

 _“Sometimes I hear your voice and I think that you’re in the kitchen making coffee like you used to,”_ a laugh, almost a sob, sharp and heartbroken. _“I must be fucking insane, hyung.”_

Changkyun shouldn’t sound like this—watered down, empty. Broken. Not when he’s usually so full of passion. That’s all Hyunwoo needs to hear to begin walking again, this time to the nearest subway station.

 _“I love you, baby.”_ Hyunwoo flinches at the words. Changkyun sounds so close, like he’s whispering them into his ear, nose nuzzled into his neck and fingers curled into his sweater. He always smelled a little sweet, like vanilla. So different than the molten words he spat on stage. _“Always.”_

Hongdae greets Hyunwoo with dizzying electric light. Buskers sing to lively groups of college students searching for their big break. Hyunwoo skirts around the crowds, keeping his head down. His feet know where to go.

Even as he walks, he knows that he should get rid of them—the lingering memories. The messages. The threadbare sheets. Changkyun’s scent still clings to the fabric no matter how many times he washes them. He knows that he should let go. Forget him.

But as he walks down the steps of the club to the basement, throbbing bass and Changkyun’s deep voice beckoning him toward the stage, he feels the serrated edges of himself begin to stir, something dormant for the past few months gasping back to life. Something raw and visceral.

Changkyun finds him almost immediately, his dark eyes glittering as they burn into his own. Something intense and inevitable sparks in the air between them as he raps, “I know you want me too, oh don’t hesitate. You’re my home so baby take me there—”

And Hyunwoo stops fighting it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments, kudos, etc really make my day! :)


	2. yes or no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changkyun has been back in Seoul for less than a week and he is already wreaking havoc for the Presidential Security Service agents. [hacker au; fluffy]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is extremely self-indulgent and is not written to accurately reflect national security, the Blue House, etc. It's purely for fun! Enjoy!

Hyunwoo’s finger falters on the trigger; he feels him before he sees him, his skin prickling under the warm gaze of curious eyes. The paper target waits patiently for another lethal shot and he shifts his muscles trying to shrug off the feeling, but it only serves to spread the warmth as it washes through his body.

“Changkyun-ah,” he calls out, trying his best to sound stern, but he sounds more fond than anything, “you know you’re not supposed to be here. The President would fire me if he ever found out.”

He hears a soft snort as he lifts his arms again, squinting at the target; adrenaline courses through him as it always does just before he pulls the trigger. The bullet cuts straight through the middle of the printed chest, and the smell of gunsmoke singes his nostrils in that familiar way. He turns around to find Changkyun leaning against the wall, arms folded casually over his chest.

“My dad will fire your ass anyway for not picking his beloved son up from the airport,” he fires back.

“Where’s your bodyguard?” Hyunwoo asks as he takes out his ear protectors and holsters the gun. “And your driver?”

“They think that I’m still in the bathroom at LAX.” Changkyun grins. Devilish. “You really need to do something about the GPS tracker on my phone, hyung. Do you know how easy it is to fuck with it?”

Hyunwoo sighs, rolling his eyes affectionately, muttering, “I can’t believe they’re still falling for that.”

“It’s too easy.” Changkyun juts out his lower lip. “They don’t even try to find me anymore.”

“How you’ve survived studying abroad in LA is beyond me, Kyun.”

Changkyun grins again, his dimples popping, and Hyunwoo kind of wants to poke them. “Let’s get noodles then I’ll let you take me back to the Blue House.”

“I’m off duty,” he replies flatly.

“Then buy me noodles because I’m cute.”

Hyunwoo internally sputters and feels his ears burn. He casually throws an arm around Changkyun’s shoulders. “You’re not _that_ cute, Changkyun-ah.” 

/

Changkyun has been back in Seoul for less than a week and he is already wreaking havoc for the Presidential Security Service (PSS) agents.

“The agents are in place?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Hyunwoo replies as they walk through the Blue House to one of the myriad meeting rooms. “All our best agents are on site and in position. President Drump is already seated.”

“I hate this guy,” the President murmurs as they pause outside the meeting room, turning to his personal translator, Chae Hyungwon, “and I may say something that shouldn’t be included in the official transcript. So, I trust that you will translate properly.”

Hyungwon presses his lips together to suppress a laugh and quickly clears his throat. “Of course, Mr. President.”

Hyunwoo opens the door for the two men and follows closely behind them, fully present, but unobtrusive as they make their initial introductions. He swore an oath to serve and protect, and he takes his job as a security agent seriously, but even he has been dreading the meeting today. He scans the room, meeting eyes with the other agents as he fights the overwhelming urge to gawk at the foreign guest’s spray-paint orange skin. It’s even more orange than it looks on TV.

The meeting is pretty typical. Boring. Diplomatic. Until Drump says, “I thought this country was going to be a shithole, but it really isn’t that bad! What do you think about Drump Tower Seoul?”

President Im's face grows dark. “Take your tower and shove it up your ass, shit head,” he grits out, then shoots Hyungwon a pointed look.

“Uh, that one is a little difficult to translate,” Hyungwon says as he runs fingers through his blond hair, the slight shake in his voice a dead giveaway that he’s trying not to laugh, “but what he’s basically saying is—”

Suddenly, the meeting room begins to darken. Then a disco ball slowly lowers from the ceiling as the main lights turn off and dance music begins to play.

Hyunwoo hears a short burst of static in his in-ear, then, “Uh, Hyunwoo. We have a situation.”

“I can see that,” he replies dryly as he signals to the other security personnel to finish the meeting with the President so that he can return to the control room. “Are all members of the President’s family accounted for?”

He hears various agents check in—protocol whenever there is a security breach, even one this innocuous. “Where’s Changkyun?”

A pause. “GPS shows that he’s in his room.”

“I doubt that,” Hyunwoo mutters as he walks into the control room. “Physically check that he’s there and report back.” 

Hoseok is typing rapid-fire and barely acknowledges him as he looks at the lines of code on screen. “What have you figured out so far?”

“It’s strange,” Hoseok mutters with a frown. “The hack is definitely internal, but I can’t seem to trace it.”

Hyunwoo nods slowly. “Strange,” he agrees.

Then—“Uh, guys,” begins the bodyguard, his voice squeaky in Hyunwoo’s ear, “we have a Code 126. Changkyun isn’t in his room.”

Hyunwoo and Hoseok exchange a look. “I’ll find him,” Hyunwoo says. “Try to patch the system while I’m out.”

Humidity clings to his skin as soon as he leaves the air conditioned building. The property is large and the sun beats down on his back as he walks through the manicured garden to the far edge of the property.

As he approaches a small pond, he finds Changkyun lying in the grass on his stomach, his laptop open in front of him. He’s collected even more stickers since starting university. 

“It only took you seven minutes this time,” Changkyun says before he looks up from the screen. He grins, lopsided and clearly pleased. “That must be some kind of record.”

“Is this how you’ve decided to use your degree, Changkyun-ah? Impromptu diplomatic disco parties?”

Changkyun laughs, light and twinkling. “Nah. There was something else I had planned,” he says as he’s about to push another button.

Hyunwoo tackles him and they roll around until he manages to pin Changkyun underneath him. Changkyun is still softly giggling, warm puffs of air hitting Hyunwoo’s lips. Hyunwoo grows still, very much aware of the firm body underneath his own, and Changkyun’s fingers somehow manage to work themselves underneath his shirt, teasing—just enough for Hyunwoo to feel them. Changkyun shifts underneath him and he feels little sparks of heat at every point of contact. 

“Don’t you want to know what will happen?” Changkyun asks softly, eyes flicking from his lips back to meet his gaze. “Yes or no, hyung?”

Hyunwoo begins to lean in, their noses almost brushing, when he sees the glitter in Changkyun’s eyes. The mischief. “Absolutely not,” he breathes out once he realizes what Changkyun is actually asking. He scrambles up and mops beads of sweat off his forehead, silently rebuking himself. “Hoseok is already coding like a madman trying to fix this.”

“Aww, you like to ruin my fun,” he pouts as he closes the laptop, bumping Hyunwoo’s shoulder with his own as they walk back to the Blue House. “Remember when it took you six hours to find me?”

“You were all the way the fuck in Mapo-gu, Kyun.” 

Hyunwoo’s first day as an agent happened to coincide with Changkyun’s first winter break home during his freshman year at university. A computer engineering student and genius hacker, Changkyun easily fooled the Blue House security system. Hyunwoo eventually tracked him to an arcade, where he was racing against his friend, Jooheon. He expected Changkyun to be pissed off or sulky, but he was met with a playful smile and a glint of admiration in his eyes.

Hyunwoo feels a finger hook into his belt loop and there’s something shy about the way Changkyun is looking at him as he says softly, “I think you like the chase.”

/

Hyunwoo throws himself face first onto the couch. Another long day as an agent successfully completed and all he wants right now is food, beer and sleep. Hoseok is cooking ramyeon in the kitchen and Hyungwon is leaning over the counter, giggling about nothing, already drunk off half a bottle of beer.

Hyunwoo’s phone buzzes with a text and he immediately sits up when he sees that it is from the President. 

**< President Im>**

_Kyunnine neebds kitssesz_

“What the fuck?” Hyunwoo mutters as he frowns down at the phone.

**< President Im>**

_I comband tdhat yuo give ym son kistses!!!_

Then—

**< Kihyun>**

_Changkyun is really fucking drunk. Come. Get. Him. Now._

Hyunwoo groans. He doesn’t even want to know how Changkyun was able to figure out how to fake a presidential text while completely wasted.

“Food is ready!” Hoseok announces at the same time that Hyunwoo blurts, “Does Changkyun ever ask to kiss you? Like when he’s drunk?”

He’s met with silence.

“That’s an interesting question, hyung,” Hyungwon drawls after a beat, raising his eyebrow slightly. “Why? Does he ask _you_ to kiss him?”

Hyunwoo shrugs, blaming his lack of filter on exhaustion. “Yeah. Sometimes. It’s our thing, I guess.” He clears his throat. “Can I borrow your car, Hoseok? I have to pick up Kyun from a club in Gangnam. Ki texted me.”

“Interesting that he wants _you_ to pick him up and not his bodyguard,” Hyungwon muses before taking another long sip of beer. “And you’re wearing your glasses too.”

Oh, right. His Do Not Disturb sign to the world. He shrugs again, a little more aggressively. “Just helping out the President’s son. Fulfilling my duty. No big deal. I’ll be back soon.”

Hyungwon hums. “You never leave the apartment for _me_ once your glasses are on—”

Hyunwoo closes the door and scowls all the way to Hoseok’s 1990 Corolla, parked on the street outside their small apartment complex. The car is old but clean and comes outfitted with a variety of mixtapes of every sappy Korean ballad and terrible western 80’s and 90’s love song imaginable. Hyunwoo pushes a tape in and turns the volume down, sighing as _Careless Whisper_ fades into the background, and navigates the car through typical Friday night traffic.

Once in the club, Kihyun immediately spots him and frantically waves him down, pointing toward the dance floor. Changkyun is swaying to the music, blue and purple lights dancing across his skin, catching on the silver studs in his ears. Alone in a sea of people, he’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, unbothered by the rest of the crowd. When their gazes catch, Changkyun’s eyes are hazy and his lips pull up into a smirk. 

_Dance with me_ , he mouths, and Hyunwoo takes a step toward him.

Suddenly, there is a firm hand on his bicep. “Please take him home,” Kihyun practically shouts over the music. “This place is probably crawling with reporters looking for their next tabloid article. I can see the headline now, ‘President Im’s Son a Partier?’ His reputation will be irreparably harmed!”

Kihyun is Changkyun’s Public Relations officer and Hyunwoo has never met a braver soul. He settles a reassuring hand onto Kihyun’s shoulder and nods. “You should go home and rest. I’ll make sure he gets home safely.”

Changkyun sings loudly in the car, making up his own lyrics, giggling as he pokes Hyunwoo in the cheek until he sings too. The car windows are down to accommodate the stifling heat, and Changkyun lets the wind ruffle his hair, closing his eyes as he belts out the next song, not caring about the odd looks he’s given. Totally himself. A free spirit. 

Hyunwoo’s chest feels tight.

He parks the car in front of the Blue House. Turns off the engine. “How did you manage to escape the on-duty bodyguard?”

Changkyun grins and pulls out his phone. On the screen is the CCTV feed of his bedroom. The door is ajar, showing a guard standing right outside. “I pretended to lock myself in the closet. Watch this,” he says as he presses a series of keys and speaks into the phone, “Mr. Guard.”

The agent jolts, enters the room, and reaches out a hand to open the closet door. “Don’t come in here, I’m naked!” Changkyun practically shrieks, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “I need privacy. Uh, and fried chicken. Now please leave.”

The bodyguard hesitates, then shrugs and leaves. Hyunwoo can’t help but laugh; now he understands why it’s so easy for Changkyun to escape. Even while drunk, he is goddamn brilliant.

“Come on,” he grunts, the ghost of a smile still on his lips as he helps Changkyun out of the car.

Changkyun holds onto his shoulders and tries to jump onto his back, but he’s so uncoordinated that he falls on his butt. “I want a piggyback ride.”

“Kyun,” Hyunwoo begins to argue, but Changkyun widens his eyes and juts out his bottom lip, pleading, and Hyunwoo feels his heart constrict in his chest. “Fine. Hop on.”

They both nod cordially to the very surprised guard standing outside Changkyun’s room and Changkyun plucks the bag of fried chicken out of his hand. “Wow, fast delivery! Thank you!”

Hyunwoo ignores the nose nuzzled into his neck and the sweet, happy noises Changkyun lets out as he snuggles further into his back.

“You’re wearing your glasses,” he murmurs once Hyunwoo drops him onto his bed, hair messy against the sheets.

Hyunwoo reaches up and touches them. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Hyung,” Changkyun says, then lets the word hang in the air between them. Hyunwoo feels his breath catch in his throat and he forces it out slowly. “You never gave me my kisses.”

Hyunwoo swallows. His eyes flick up to the camera watching his every move and he lets out a shaky breath. “You need to sleep.”

“Would you kiss me if there weren’t any cameras?”

He wishes that he could blame his hesitation on his duty, on the oath he took, then at least he could pretend that he’s being honorable. When did this become so complicated? Maybe it was the first time Changkyun smiled—really smiled at him, and it felt like the rest of the world melted away. Or maybe it was when they watched a movie together, alone on Hyunwoo’s couch, and Changkyun curled into his side, lazily playing with his fingers.

“Yes or no, hyung?” 

Hyunwoo almost blurts the truth—almost leans over to press their lips together. Soft and gentle. But Changkyun has been drinking and there’s a lilt to his voice that is teasing. Playful. He doesn’t want to lose his friend’s trust, fuck up their friendship by crossing a line that has only become more blurred.

“Rest,” he says softly, swallowing the truth down until there’s only bitterness left on his tongue. He boops Changkyun on the nose and runs gentle fingers through his hair until he begins to quietly snore.

/

Hyunwoo enters the staff break room for another cup of coffee and almost runs into Hoseok, who is standing over a pile of Pepsi cans, glaring and muttering curses under his breath as more cans shoot wildly out of the malfunctioning vending machine. 

“They’re back—the hacker,” Hoseok grumbles as he whacks the machine. “I swear they are just fucking with me!”

Hyungwon is leaning against the counter, glowing and effortlessly glamorous as he double fists Pepsi cans. “I don’t see what the big deal is. This is great,” he says as he takes a luxurious sip and sweeps a lock of blond hair out of his eyes.

Hyunwoo has a suspicion that this is the work of one particularly cheeky computer engineering student.

He sends a text: _Where are you?_

Receives: _Somewhere I can breathe._ _Join me?_

Hyunwoo mumbles _good luck_ to Hoseok and walks out of the Blue House and into the waning sunlight. The air is hazy with summer heat, but the evenings are starting to cool down, ushering in a new season. Pink streaks the sky as he climbs the last step of the ladder and walks onto the rooftop of one of the property's outlying buildings, a favorite hangout spot for Changkyun. 

Hyunwoo has been up here more times than he can count, sitting on an old worn out couch next to Changkyun, sipping beers as they look at the stars. Changkyun is still staring at the laptop open in front of him, chewing on his thumbnail and hugging a knee to his chest. His hair is a little wavy from the humidity and he lazily plays with a lock, curling and uncurling it around his finger. Everything about him is beautiful, from his unique view of the world to his kind heart and sweet laughter. Hyunwoo pauses for a moment just to soak him in, his chest heavy with longing. 

“Five minutes. That’s a new record, hyung,” Changkyun says softly, looking up from the screen. “I have to go back to LA soon.”

“I know.” Hyunwoo nods, smiling wryly. “So you wanted to cause some chaos one last time?”

He expects Changkyun to grin devilishly and explain his whole plan while they crack open some beers. Hyunwoo would sit on the couch next to him, pretending that he isn’t actively fighting the urge to hold his hand. Pretending that it isn’t becoming harder for him to be around Changkyun and only think of him as a friend. Or as the President's son.

Changkyun doesn’t laugh; he doesn’t even crack a smile. “Something like that,” he mutters. “I can turn off the entire network. No light. No CCTV. All these cameras—off.”

“You found another weakness in the system?”

Changkyun shrugs. “It’s too easy to hack. I’ll send the PSS an anonymous security patch in the morning.”

Hyunwoo chuckles despite himself. “I’m going to miss you,” he admits quietly.

“I’m going to miss you too, hyung. I always miss you.” Hyunwoo is about to force out a laugh just to cut the tension that’s thick between them now, but there is something in Changkyun’s gaze this time that makes him pause.

“No eyes on us for at least an hour,” Changkyun continues, his voice so, so soft. The usual mirth glittering in his eyes is replaced by an openness and vulnerability that makes Hyunwoo’s stomach flip.

“Yes or no, hyung?”

Hyunwoo licks his lips. What if he’s reading this all wrong? What if the ache in his heart is making him _want_ so badly that he is willing to throw away everything for the chance to touch Changkyun and truly feel him. 

“Yes or no?” Changkyun is watching him, his fingers lightly resting on the keyboard. Waiting.

He could laugh it off and play it safe, maintain their friendship and the PSS agents’ sanities, or he can trust in this electric feeling in the air, trust in this moment—in _them_.

 _Fuck it._

“Yes,” he breathes out as he sinks into the couch cushion and eases Changkyun onto his lap. Their lips touch just as the lights flicker out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments, kudos, etc really make my day! :)


	3. rewind (let's not fall in love) pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could go with you to the wedding," Changkyun offers quietly. "If you want. So you’re not alone.”
> 
> Hyunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”
> 
> Changkyun shrugs. “I could pretend to be your boyfriend or something."
> 
> [part 1 of showkyun fake dating au; angst; angst with a happy ending]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! So, yes this story has multiple parts! They will all be somewhat drabble length so I can write them as I write longer chapters for other fics. Just a word of warning, Hyunwoo is pining after Kihyun (who is getting married), so this is technically pre-relationship for showkyun, but...it doesn't stay that way for long. Hyunwoo and Changkyun will get their happy ending because it is what they Deserve ♡
> 
> Also!! Jooheon is Hyunwoo's younger brother in this story!!
> 
> Part 1 is from Hyunwoo's POV. The next part will be from Changkyun's POV!

It’s after midnight when Hyunwoo drags himself through the carpeted hallway to his apartment and punches in the keycode. He shuts the door and presses his forehead to the cool painted wood, still reeling from the news. 

_Kihyun is getting married._

It wasn’t exactly unexpected but all the air left his lungs when he spotted his friend at their usual kbbq spot, smiling widely and pointing to the shiny new platinum ring on his finger. Hyunwoo pretended that he was happy for his friend while he choked down pieces of beef and shots of soju, and listened to all the sappy, romantic proposal details. He actually gagged at one point when he found out that Minhyuk had written Kihyun a poem listing out all the things he loves about him. Who even does that?

He groans and closes his eyes against the memory, forcing out a long breath, but it does little to ease the nausea sloshing in his stomach. 

“Hey, hyung,” comes a deep voice from behind him. He turns around to find Changkyun sitting on the couch wearing little more than threadbare pajama bottoms, blinking drowsily up at him. “Did you get home just now?” he asks after a long yawn.

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo internally winces at how rough his voice sounds. He walks into the living room and sinks into the leather couch next to his friend, careful not to disturb his younger brother, Jooheon, who is asleep facedown on the carpet. _The Avengers_ continues to play on the TV, the sound muted. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.”

“I don’t have class tomorrow,” Changkyun grins, “and I wanted to share some of your ramyeon with you.”

It somehow became their Friday night tradition: Hyunwoo comes home grumpy and tired, and Changkyun pouts and pokes at his stomach until he gets up to make him ramyeon.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, but he really doesn’t mind it, especially not when Changkyun follows him into the kitchen and snuggles sleepily into his back, nose nuzzling his neck as he boils the water for the ramyeon. “How was uni today, Kyun?” 

Changkyun and Jooheon are both in their last year of university, studying film. Hyunwoo has been featured in so many short films for class projects that he’s lost count; he may not be an artist himself, but he admires and respects both his brother and Changkyun for nurturing abstract ideas into completed works of art. 

“It was fine,” Changkyun answers, his voice muffled by Hyunwoo’s work shirt. “I missed you.”

Hyunwoo always feels a strange pang whenever Changkyun says stuff like that. With dark messy hair, pretty eyes, a boopable nose and dimples, Hyunwoo thought Changkyun was the cutest guy he’d ever met when Jooheon first brought him over to the apartment three years ago. Naturally shy, his ears burned as he tried to impress Changkyun by cracking terrible jokes just to see him smile. When Jooheon shared the exciting news that he and Changkyun were dating, Hyunwoo backed off immediately and swallowed his growing feelings until they ebbed away.

The film students only dated for about a month before they decided that they were better off as friends, but Changkyun still felt off limits; Hyunwoo would rather gain another friend than potentially lose both Changkyun and his brother. Shortly after, he met Kihyun and was swept away by the man who was as witty and biting as he was warm and kind.

Now Kihyun is marrying Minhyuk and Hyunwoo once again swallows the bitter fact that he always seems to fall for the wrong people.

“Ramyeon is ready,” he announces as he turns off the stove. “Grab some beers. Let’s eat on the balcony.”

Hyunwoo’s job pays well enough that he was able to secure an apartment in Seoul with a large balcony with room for a round table, a few chairs and pots of plants. When Changkyun moved in with the brothers, he insisted on growing herbs, flowers and ferns, and they’ve all flourished under his care.

Sticky heat immediately coats Hyunwoo’s skin as he sits down in one of the squeaky metal chairs, and the air feels heavy with impending rain. He doesn’t mind the rainy season; it seems to wash away some of the city’s smog and grit, leaving the air smelling fresh and almost sweet. 

Changkyun talks about the film he’s storyboarding for his final project in between slurps of ramyeon—and Hyunwoo finds himself relaxing as he listens to him talk, his voice deep and smooth. Comforting. He takes a long sip of beer and looks out over the city; the distant call of cicadas blurs with road noise, and the skyline glitters brightly under the inky midnight sky. 

His mind drifts to earlier in the evening when Kihyun invited him over to watch a movie, like he always does when his boyfriend— _fiancé_ —is working late. Kihyun fell asleep curled into his side and Hyunwoo forced himself to remain completely still—pretending he wasn't savoring his friend's body heat, pretending he didn't want to touch or hold him—until Minhyuk came home to scoop his fiancé into his arms; the sleepy noises Kihyun made when Minhyuk kissed his cheek made Hyunwoo’s heart splinter.

What really stings is that Minhyuk is such a _nice_ guy; Hyunwoo genuinely likes him and he makes Kihyun happy. How could he be so stupid? Guilt and nausea churn in his stomach, and he suppresses the sudden, intense need to scream. After several minutes of silence, he realizes that Changkyun has stopped talking and is sitting quietly with an empty bowl in front of him, watching him carefully.

“Sorry, Kyun,” he mumbles, finally loosening his tie and popping open the top button to feel more comfortable. “I guess I was zoning out.”

“Yeah. You usually do when you come home after seeing Kihyun.”

He doesn’t say it unkindly, but it cuts anyway.

“Ah,” Hyunwoo says on an exhale, keeping his gaze on his fingers as he smooths out his rumpled work shirt. “I guess I do.”

Changkyun looks out over the cityscape. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He almost never asks that, mostly because they both tend to keep their problems to themselves. Hyunwoo fully intends to reassure his friend that he's just tired from a long work week, but instead he blurts, “He’s getting married, Kyun.”

“Who?”

“Kihyun,” he breathes out, feeling his chest constrict again.

“Oh,” then after a beat, “when?”

“In six weeks on Jeju.” Changkyun digests the news quietly and not for the first time, Hyunwoo is grateful for his friendship. He loves his brother, but Jooheon is overprotective and tends to get worked up easily. _“Why do you keep doing this to yourself, hyung?”_ he practically screamed the last time Hyunwoo came home with bloodshot eyes and longing clogging his throat.

Changkyun sips his beer and hums thoughtfully. “Are you going to go?”

Hyunwoo taps his fingers on the table. “I have to, right? We’re friends.”

Changkyun looks at him with a mixture of surprise and exasperation. “Do you really want to watch him marry someone else?”

“No,” he answers honestly. “Especially when I have to sit there pretending like I’m happy for them.”

“I could go with you," he offers quietly. "If you want. So you’re not alone.”

Hyunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

Changkyun shrugs. “I could pretend to be your boyfriend or something—"

 _Boyfriend?_ Hyunwoo blinks, trying to catch up with what his friend is proposing.

"—I’ve never met Kihyun, so I’d be a new face. Maybe we met at work—”

“Wait," Hyunwoo interjects, his brain still snagged on the idea of them being fake _boyfriends_ , "we don’t work together.”

“Okay, maybe we met on a blind date?" Changkyun waves his hand like the details are insignificant. "You know, something cliché like we met at a coffee shop.”

"But they met at a coffee shop."

"See? Cliché."

Hyunwoo frowns. “I don’t know, Kyun. I don’t want to pull you into all this.”

Changkyun kicks his foot playfully. “We’re friends, hyung, and I hate seeing you like this," he says earnestly, then shrugs to lighten the mood. "Besides, I’d get to eat cake and go to the beach. It really doesn’t sound that bad.”

Hyunwoo considers the offer as he finishes his beer—and long after Jooheon and Changkyun are asleep in their shared room, Hyunwoo is lying in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks, weighs and bargains.

The next morning, he pops his head into Changkyun’s room and finds him rifling through notes, his laptop open on the bed in front of him. “About that whole fake dating thing—”

Changkyun hums, looking up from his notes briefly.

“I’m in, if you’re still up for it.”

“Sure,” he says with a grin and he actually looks excited, which Hyunwoo can only attribute to the prospect of eating unlimited free cake.

“But, Kyun?”

Changkyun hums and raises an eyebrow, expectant.

“This fake dating thing," he says as he points between himself and his friend, "it's only for the wedding.”

Something indecipherable passes over Changkyun’s face before he smiles like he normally does. “Sure, hyung. Only for the wedding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you sososo much for reading!! What did you think? If you feel up to it, please drop me a comment!! They really do mean the world to me!!!
> 
> And for those of you keeping up with Overflow, I'm writing Chapter 4 now!! I'm hoping to post it within the next week!
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> ♡ cupofgenmaicha


	4. lost in the dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyunwoo misses him. [angst; implied sex]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! This is Very Angsty and does have implied sex in it, so please be aware of that! Also, I wrote this as a timed exercise, just for fun and to challenge myself. It isn't edited; you have been warned!!
> 
> This is a gift for a certain "anonymous" angst-lover [yeah, it's for you, ao3 user showkyun. hope you enjoy it, bby!!]

Hyunwoo feels sad for some reason. There’s a strange ache in his heart that makes him hug Changkyun even closer, his fingers running along the bumps of his spine to his hips, holding him so that he doesn’t slip away. Changkyun laughs, the sound deep and sleep-roughened; even in the perfect darkness of their bedroom, Hyunwoo can see his soft smile.

“What is it, hyung?” he asks sleepily.

“I don’t know,” Hyunwoo whispers into his shoulder before kissing him there, savoring the warm skin underneath his lips. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” Changkyun murmurs before he takes Hyunwoo’s anxious hand and kisses his fingertips, then shifts slightly to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Hyunwoo hums and chases his lips, kissing him again. Changkyun’s chuckle is cut off when Hyunwoo nips at his lower lip, and they both surge into the familiar touch, opening their mouths to feel their tongues meet. 

“Baby,” Changkyun whispers against his lips as they tangle in each other, naked. “I want to feel you, baby. Please.”

They lose themselves in each other, kissing as Hyunwoo teases Changkyun with his fingers, his mouth swallowing all his quiet gasps. Hyunwoo knows every curve and dip of Changkyun’s body, and even in the dark he knows where to touch him to hear him sigh. His lips graze over the moles on his neck and throat, kissing the tip of his nose and his eyelids, before meeting his lips again.

“Why aren’t you inside me yet, hyung?”

Hyunwoo laughs at how breathy he sounds, that familiar whine edging his words when he’s worked up and impatient. “I just,” he pauses, surprised by the sudden tightness in his throat, “really love you, Kyun. Let me love you tonight.”

Changkyun leans in for another slow, gentle kiss and Hyunwoo holds him firmly against his body as they move together. He shudders under Changkyun’s roaming palm and gasps into his mouth as his body begins to tense, close.

“You don’t have to hold back, baby,” Changkyun says in that deep, velvety voice of his before he nips and kisses up Hyunwoo’s neck. “It’s okay to let go and let yourself feel it.”

 _I’m sorry, hyung. We knew from the beginning that we were never meant to be_ _—_

Hyunwoo jolts awake, his skin sweaty and hair matted to his forehead. His hand pats the empty space next to him, searching the bed for any sign of body heat, any sign of him.

“Changkyun?” he whispers into the dark apartment. “Baby?” 

Only silence answers him.

_Another dream._

Reality crashes down on him and his chest heaves. _Deep breath in, then out_ —but the mantra isn’t working this time. His next breath ends in an aborted sob that he tries to force back inside, his shaky hands clamped tightly over his mouth, but something within him breaks. Pain seizes his body as his heart cracks and he chokes out a wretched sob. Then another. Soon he’s curled in on himself as it all washes through him. 

Changkyun is gone—and he’s never coming back.

He licks the salt off his lips and rolls over onto his back, feeling an empty hole where his heart used to be. His eyes land on the stack of paintings and sketches Changkyun left behind in his rush to leave. His favorite grey sweatshirt is still in the closet waiting to be worn again. Pictures of them laughing and kissing and just _being_ , photos from better days, are still in their frames, tucked away under a cloth so that they don’t get dusty. He reaches out for his phone and presses the voicemail button—

_I got my first sale tonight, baby! Imagine me, Im Changkyun as a famous artist. I’ll see you later tonight. I love you, Hyunwoo—_

Replay.

_I love you _—_ _

Replay. 

_I love yo—_

His phone shatters as it hits the wall.

Hours later, he finds himself walking through one of Hongdae’s brightly painted alleyways—and he tells himself that it’s because he misses the cheap eateries and the street musicians. He stops in front of one of the neighborhood’s myriad art galleries; it’s small and unassuming, but warm. Inviting. A place where Hyunwoo could wander around for hours, looking at the paintings on the wall.

His hand settles on the door knob, ready to turn it, but then movement inside the gallery makes him pause. He looks through the window and sees Changkyun standing near one of his paintings, his shoulders shaking and his head thrown back, laughing as another man continues to talk animatedly.

Changkyun looks happy—wholly, incandescently happy.

Hyunwoo drops his hand from the knob and looks down at the platinum ring still nestled on his finger; he twists it and finally takes it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave myself chest pains.
> 
> So...what did you think?? More angst, you say?!? Okay, coming right up...


	5. above the clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyunwoo should tell him. [undercover cop au; mafia; implied sexual content]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another writing exercise!! I tried to make it a lot softer than the last one; there's implied sexual content, so please be aware of that.
> 
> This is a gift for ao3 user showkyun ♡ hope you enjoy it, bby!!

Changkyun shifts onto his side, his limbs tangled with the white sheets and dark hair splayed on the pillow. Soft sunlight filters through the blinds, illuminating the room as Hyunwoo watches Changkyun’s chest continue to gently rise and fall.

Hyunwoo should tell him—but the outside world seems so far away from this quiet room that reaches so high above Seoul, Hyunwoo feels like they are above the clouds. 

It couldn’t have been too long ago that Changkyun drifted to sleep, but Hyunwoo already wants to touch him again; he wants to watch as goosebumps rise on his skin in all the places his fingers brush. He wants to taste him, his tongue warm and wet against his skin and feel him shudder against his lips. There’s a red mark marring the smooth skin on his throat and Hyunwoo would feel a bit sheepish about it if he weren’t also littered with love marks and scratches so abundant, they look like paint strokes of crimson smeared across his golden skin.

When they first started fucking, it was a moment of weakness, or at least that’s what Hyunwoo told himself. As a veteran cop, he trained for months before embarking on this undercover mission, embracing the mantra: _Do not fuck up. Do not get distracted. Do not get attached_ _—_

Hyunwoo chuckles darkly; he has already done all that and so much more.

 _Infiltrate the organization, gain Mr. Im’s trust, and report back_ , were the final words spoken by his reporting officer before he was left alone on a street corner, cut off from the rest of the world. Hyunwoo doesn’t mind working alone; he’s used to the immense stress and psychological torture of living as someone else for months at a time. He expected to be beaten and tested; he expected to do things that are morally grey. What he never expected was for Mr. Im to have a son with challenge glittering in his dark pretty eyes and a voice that would haunt him, whispering into his ear as he touched himself late at night.

Hyunwoo should tell him—but Changkyun’s hand is resting gently on his stomach, in no hurry to leave. Their naked legs brush together and Changkyun makes a sleepy, content noise. _This man has my entire heart_ , he thinks as he soaks him in, chest tight and heart way too open. Hyunwoo memorizes how his eyelashes flutter, a dark smear against his cheek; his eyes follow the lines of his body, from the hollow of his throat to the soft dip of his stomach. Hyunwoo loves to kiss him on his navel, whispering secrets and searing prayers into his skin.

Hyunwoo should tell him, but Changkyun’s eyes flutter open and he looks so happy, the way his eyes light up when he sees that Hyunwoo is still there with him.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Hyunwoo asks too fondly as he tangles their fingers together. Changkyun shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and that’s all the answer Hyunwoo needs.

 _This is the last time,_ he tells himself, but he already forgets his own lie when he feels Changkyun’s body shift to press against his own as their lips touch. Their fingers roam as they kiss, now undeniably comfortable and playful with each other.

“That tickles,” Changkyun giggles breathlessly into his mouth and Hyunwoo swallows the happy sound, savors it, committing it to memory to ward off the inevitable emptiness looming over them.

Their bodies move together, Changkyun’s back arching off the bed whenever Hyunwoo touches him just right. His hair is plastered to his forehead and he looks hazy and fucked out, glowing and so, so beautiful.

“Hyung,” he gasps out, his fingertips pressing into Hyunwoo’s skin and body beginning to twitch and shake underneath him.

“Baby,” Hyunwoo whispers tenderly against Changkyun’s lips, kissing him for all the times he won’t be able to in the future. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.”

Hyunwoo should tell him—but they’re both naked and sweaty, panting into each other’s mouths—and Hyunwoo feels warm and full in a way he hasn’t in a very long time.

As their breathing evens out, he looks down at Changkyun and peppers kisses all over his forehead and his nose; he brushes damp strands of hair out of his eyes. He tries to remember why he’s here in this luxurious mafia-owned apartment high above the city; he tries to remember that they are technically enemies. But all he sees are hazy, unhurried daydreams of them linking pinkies as they drink coffee in the morning after spending all night together. He sees them fucking against the window for the thrill, making love in the shower and kissing just because.

 _He would protect Changkyun with his life_ —the thought strikes him like lightning. The truth behind it should be terrifying. Hyunwoo knows what he should do: tell Changkyun that he used him for information to help with taking down a notorious mafia empire. He knows that he should convince him that he was just a warm body to fill the long lonely nights as he lived a double life in the city’s shadowed underworld. He knows that he should lie to him and hurt him, break them apart so that Hyunwoo doesn’t blow his cover and destroy the entire case.

But as Hyunwoo looks down at him and sees Changkyun’s lips curl into a shy smile before they press their lips together again tenderly, lovingly, he knows that this isn’t the right time.

Hyunwoo knows that he should tell him, but he doesn’t want to. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Now that I have this out of my system, it's time to finish up chapter 4 of Overflow ♡


	6. the only home (i want to know): bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve been thinking, maybe we could write our own vows.”
> 
> Hyunwoo stared at the notebook, his heart rate spiking, but Changkyun was so earnest that the only thing he could think to say was, “Of course.” 
> 
> Now the damn thing is haunting him.
> 
> [The Only Home (I Want to Know): bonus chapter! tooth-rotting fluff; sexual references; and some pre-wedding jitters]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooo!! 
> 
> I know, I know. I said that I was going to take a small break from writing, but that lasted 2 days and I was going craaazzy. Writing keeps me sane tbh.
> 
> [The Only Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292445) surpassed 1100 hits and I am so sofffttt. I can't believe that there are that many people out there who have read it;;;; Thank you soso much to everyone who read, commented, kudos'd and bookmarked; you all mean so much to me!! Please accept this bonus chapter as a small gift to you!! I love all of you and I hope that this brings a smile to your face! ♡
> 
> Also, please note that this bonus chapter contains tooth-rotting fluff, sexual references and nunu trying to write his vows. It really is tooth-rotting...you have been warned!

Hyunwoo wakes to Changkyun tucked into his side, their legs tangled underneath the thin white sheet bunched around their hips. He loves these lazy mornings together, when they’re both still naked, warm skin against skin. Summer sunlight filters into their bedroom and it dapples Changkyun’s bare shoulder; Hyunwoo can’t help but kiss him there on his soft skin and he is rewarded with a sleepy hum.

He runs a hand languorously down Changkyun’s spine, the platinum ring on his finger still sending a thrill of pleasure through him. In a little less than a month they’ll be getting married on a beach in Jeju, surrounded by their closest friends and family. Intimate and casual, with their toes buried in the sand rather than at a stuffy five-star hotel, the wedding is entirely Changkyun’s vision—and Hyunwoo couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. 

There is only one small problem. His eyes flick over to the bedside table and land on a tiny, innocuous leather notebook.

Last night was Hyunwoo’s night to cook and the fried rice was already starting to sizzle when Changkyun came home from the hospital. After a quick shower he meandered into the kitchen, hair damp and dressed in nothing more than boxers. Sometimes, Changkyun comes home exhausted and they sit in comfortable silence so that he can decompress. Other times, he’s chatty and they crack open a bottle of wine and talk until they can’t keep their eyes open any longer.

Last night, Changkyun was horny—and Hyunwoo is a weak, weak man.

The fried rice burned as they kissed languidly against the kitchen counter, losing themselves in the slow grind of their hips. It had been too long since they could enjoy much more than an early morning quickie and Hyunwoo hadn't realized just how much he missed the intimacy until he felt Changkyun’s solid weight on his thighs and heard his breathy moans and whines. Changkyun has been working out and Hyunwoo dug appreciative fingers into his wide shoulders and narrow waist as he breathed hard against his throat; they fucked in the living room, slow and hard on the couch, until Hyunwoo couldn’t think of anything other than Changkyun’s fingers in his hair and lips on his skin.

After they cuddled and showered, they ate takeout on the balcony, enjoying the balmy summer evening before heading to bed. Changkyun handed him a leather-bound notebook and said, “I’ve been thinking, maybe we could write our own vows.”

Hyunwoo stared at the notebook, his heart rate spiking, but Changkyun was so earnest that the only thing he could think to say was, “Of course.” 

Now the damn thing is haunting him.

“Morning, baby,” Changkyun mumbles sleepily against Hyunwoo’s neck. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

“Morning, Kyun. Just thinking about last night,” he says as he kisses Changkyun’s temple. “Do you want coffee?”

“Not yet.” Changkyun looks up at him with a playful glint in his eye as he smooths a palm over Hyunwoo’s hip to his upper thigh. 

Hyunwoo’s lips quirk up. “Do you have anything in mind, baby?”

Changkyun leans over to kiss him and—

_Meow! Meow!_

They look at each other and chuckle softly. Changkyun presses a quick kiss to his lips and hops out of bed, returning a minute later with their adopted kittens, Cookie and Cream.

“You missed your papa?” Changkyun coos as he kisses Cookie on her fluffy black head then sets her gently down onto Hyunwoo’s chest. Adopting the fuzzy black kittens was Changkyun’s idea and Hyunwoo loves them, but they seem so tiny. Delicate. “You’re not going to hurt her, hyung.”

Hyunwoo feels so large compared to the kitten currently kneading his skin with her paws, but he wants her to feel loved and safe, so he pets her with gentle fingers. It takes a few moments for her to begin purring and the sound instantly melts him. 

Cream—with white spots on her ear and paws—is curled into the crux of Changkyun’s arm, purring loudly as he pets her. He turns his soft smile from the kittens to Hyunwoo and he feels like his heart is so full that it will overflow.

“Do you think that Cookie and Cream will be okay while we’re on Jeju?” Changkyun asks, a wrinkle of concern forming between his brows.

“I do,” Hyunwoo reassures. “I’ve already spoken with Mrs. Lee and she seems pretty excited to watch them.”

Mrs. Lee is their neighbor and she’s taken it upon herself to adopt Hyunwoo and Changkyun as her sons, packing up food for them and nagging them about their health.

Changkyun is biting his lip as he looks between the sleeping kittens, not convinced. “Hey,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he brushes a thumb over Changkyun’s knuckles, “it will only be for a few days, then we’ll be back home.”

Changkyun meets his eyes and the concern melts away, his gaze becoming soft and sweet as he links their pinkies, their rings nearly nestled together. “I’m so glad that it’s you—” he says quietly in such a way that steals all of Hyunwoo’s breath, “—and I can’t wait to exchange vows.”

_Damn._

/

“You are the Captain to my America,” Hyunwoo mutters as he stops at the light. “The Iron to my Man.”

“What the hell are you mumbling about?” Kihyun asks from the back seat of the police cruiser.

“He’s been doing this every shift for the last two weeks,” Hyungwon explains dryly. “But really, hyung? _The Avengers_?”

“I’m supposed to be writing my own vows and I have no clue what the hell I’m doing,” Hyunwoo groans as he presses his forehead to the steering wheel. “Changkyun is already finished with his.”

Kihyun hums sympathetically. “Have you written anything?”

He thinks back to the notebook and its smooth creamy white pages—still blank. “Not yet.”

“You’re getting married in less than two weeks,” Hyungwon helpfully supplies.

“I know.” Hyunwoo feels a cold sweat break out on his forehead and he meets Kihyun’s thoughtful gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Well, why do you love him?”

As Hyunwoo continues to drive back to the police station, he thinks—he thinks about how whenever Changkyun is sad, Hyunwoo feels torn in half, and whenever Changkyun is happy, Hyunwoo only wants to lift him up higher and watch him soar.

He thinks about Changkyun’s sleepy sounds in the morning, his sharp, sarcastic wit, and the soft smile he hides against Hyunwoo’s neck whenever he’s feeling shy. He thinks about how Changkyun can somehow burn water, the softness of his skin, and how undeniably sexy and confident he is when he's talking passionately about a subject he loves.

How does he put all that into words?

“I just do,” Hyunwoo sighs with a shrug because words don’t seem adequate.

Kihyun is silent, thinking. “You should read poetry.”

Poetry. Hyunwoo has gifted Hoseok poetry books plenty of times but never really thought to read poems himself. “I think I will. Thanks, Ki.”

After work he walks to a nearby bookstore and much to the surprise of the woman working there, he buys one of every book of poetry available. Armed with two bags of books, he reads—words that leave him breathless and aching, words that are melancholic and haunting, words that are sweet and searching. 

None of these pretty words and convoluted metaphors feel right—none are his own.

Curious and seeking affection, Cookie and Cream pad over, mewling and rubbing their heads against his ankles until he lifts them onto the table.

He taps his pen against the notebook’s blank page and murmurs, “What should I say to Papa Kyunnie on our wedding day?”

The kittens stare at him blankly and he stares back as he thinks about Changkyun, suddenly feeling too clumsy and inexperienced for this kind of love that seems to sit delicate and precious in his palms; he’s terrified that one day he’ll accidentally crush it.

/

“I gave Mrs. Lee enough food to last a month,” Changkyun calls out as he shuts the apartment door and toes off his shoes, chipper as he should be the day before their wedding. “Cookie and Cream already love her.”

Hyunwoo hums as he folds another shirt to pack into their suitcase. “Did you give her the toys too?”

Changkyun walks into their bedroom and kisses him on the cheek. “Of course. How’s the packing?”

Hyunwoo folds the last pair of shorts. “Done.”

“Do you think we have time for a quick blowie?” Changkyun smirks as he walks warm fingers down Hyunwoo's tummy to his belt.

Hyunwoo catches his hand—any other time he would happily agree, but that damn notebook is still blank. Now he needs to disappoint his lover and his best friend, and watch helplessly as his face inevitably falls. “Actually, we need to talk, Kyun.”

“Okay,” he agrees quietly and it takes all of Hyunwoo’s courage to look him in the eye and not kiss away the concern he finds there. Changkyun laces their fingers together as they both sit on the bed. “What’s going on, Hyunwoo?”

“Ah, I tried to write the vows, but nothing felt right,” Hyunwoo admits, feeling hot shame crawl up his neck. “I still don’t have vows for tomorrow. I’m sorry, Changkyun-ah.”

Changkyun hums thoughtfully. “Why don’t you try saying them to me now? It’s just the two of us. No one else is here to listen.”

How does he even describe what Changkyun means to him? With Changkyun, he can spend all day next to him and never feel uncomfortable or forced to fill the air with mindless chatter. He can come home after a long, shitty day on-duty and Changkyun knows exactly what to say to make him crack a smile. With Changkyun, he feels safe enough to be vulnerable, to show this man all the dark, imperfect pieces of himself and have faith that he’ll accept him as-is, while gently encouraging him to grow and do better.

Maybe that’s what it feels like to love and be loved unconditionally; maybe love doesn’t need to be complicated and metaphorical—long, rambling lines of pretty words and flowery prose—to be true.

Hyunwoo releases a breath and squeezes Changkyun’s hand. “You are like ramyeon—”

Changkyun’s eyes glitter and his lips quirk into a grin. “Because I taste good after midnight?”

“Kyun,” Hyunwoo warns lowly, but now he’s grinning as he boops Changkyun gently on the nose. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

“Sorry.”

“You are like ramyeon because you’re warm and feel like home,” Hyunwoo murmurs plainly as he kisses Changkyun’s wrist. “Loving you is as natural as breathing and I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Thank you for loving me, Changkyun.”

Changkyun giggles softly as he looks at Hyunwoo with such affection and love that he can’t help but press a soft kiss to his fiancé’s lips and another to his cheek, scattering kisses all over Changkyun's face until they both fall backward onto the bed. 

“I think those are pretty damn good vows, Hyunwoo,” Changkyun whispers against his lips and Hyunwoo feels fizzy and light. Ready to tackle an unknown future because anything feels possible with Changkyun by his side.

Hyunwoo untangles himself from his husband-to-be and groans when he realizes that they should have already left for the airport. 

Changkyun sits up and grabs his carry-on bag. “I was thinking—maybe for your vows I could be like ssambap because I’m filled with meaty goodness—”

Hyunwoo groans. “Am I going to have to listen to this throughout the entire flight?”

“Yeah, and probably for a lot longer than that,” Changkyun teases but softens it with a kiss to Hyunwoo’s lips.

“Good thing I love you,” Hyunwoo says warmly, affection lacing his words as he holds out his hand. “Okay, Changkyun-ah. It’s time to become husbands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it! Please drop a comment if you feel up to it!!
> 
> Also, I was pleasantly surprised by the interest in the fake dating au, so I'm expanding the story to 8 installments. The next installment as well as Chapter 5 of Overflow should both be posted by the end of the month (if all goes well).
> 
> Until next time,  
> ♡cupofgenmaicha


	7. camellia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pink camellia flowers symbolize a yearning for someone just out of reach. [mafia au; hanahaki disease]
> 
> content warning: mention of murder, blood

There is a leak—a crack in the organization’s carefully-controlled inner circle—and Mr. Im is not happy.

Hyunwoo sits at the bar nursing his drink, shifting slightly on the hard stool; he’s been waiting in the same spot so long that moisture has gathered on the outside of the tumbler, beading up and rolling down to wet the wood bar. Somehow the bar is darker and danker than the city outside, but at least it shields him from the subzero winter temperatures. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watches as two men walk through the door trailing in a flurry of wispy snowflakes; the plainclothes cops snake around the bar to a booth in the corner where a third man is already sitting, his back to Hyunwoo.

That’s him—the target. Hyunwoo knows without seeing his face—it’s a gut feeling that only comes after years of hardened survival. Abandoned at 14, Hyunwoo was caught stealing from a bakery in an Im-owned tract of the city. He escaped before police could even be called, impressing the mafia leader, who employed him, trained him—and to this day, no one knows the city better than Hyunwoo.

No one except perhaps the man Hyunwoo has been pursuing for months now; he seems to blink and the man disappears in a wisp of smoke.

Hyunwoo’s eyes flit around the bar. This is a safe zone, a sliver of territory near the Han River designated by the Ims and the Yoos as a corridor for business. The families have struck a shaky truce, bringing relative peace to the city, leaving Hyunwoo with a pressing problem:

There’s a leak and Mr. Im is growing impatient.

He takes another sip of the amber liquid and the alcohol slices down his throat. He can’t hear anything over the din, but he’s able to read the officers’ expressions. Their lips. _So then, a raid?_ one of the men asks eagerly, his eyebrow twitching and eyes gleaming with greed.

What does that mean? Adrenaline courses through Hyunwoo’s veins and new movement at the table snags his attention. The cops slide out of the booth and leave through the front door, but Hyunwoo fixes his eyes on the other man. Clad in all black, the other man is a phantom as he floats through the bar and out through the back door.

Hyunwoo swallows his drink and follows. He’s not going to lose him this time.

Although his footsteps are nearly silent, an errant crunch in the snow seems to alert the man that he is being pursued; he picks up speed until soon they are both running through Seoul’s network of icy alleyways, Hyunwoo pursuing the fading footfalls of a shadow.

The man looks over his shoulder as he rounds the corner and Hyunwoo is momentarily stunned. Faltering, he slips on a patch of ice and catches himself on the brick wall. _It can’t be him_ , he reasons with himself, but he’s more cautious as he follows the man down another alley, his heart beating for an entirely different reason.

His lips curl into a smirk as the man leans back against the brick wall, trapped in a dead end. Their breaths swirl like smoke in the frigid air and Hyunwoo approaches slowly, his right hand near the knife he keeps ready in his leather jacket. Moonlight shines through the clouds and it reflects off the fresh dusting of snow coating the grit and debris, making this neglected corner of the city look almost pretty.

With a black face mask and beanie, only the man’s dark eyes are visible, glittering with familiar mischief under the dim moonlight. They’re in Yoo territory now and Hyunwoo tries to convince himself that he’s wrong: maybe this man just looks similar—a Yoo informant leaking information to the police.

But his gut has never lied to him before.

He strides up to the man and rips off his beanie, revealing mussed red hair sweat-soaked from running. A few strands fall into his eyes and he blinks them away as he removes his mask, laughing a deep unmistakable sound that sends warmth curling in Hyunwoo’s gut despite the danger.

“What the hell are you doing, Changkyun?” he grits out.

“Meeting with friends,” the mafia prince answers with a shrug.

Hyunwoo narrows his eyes. “Your father wants the mole gone and my job right now is to take care of the problem. Do you understand?”

“Kill me then,” Changkyun challenges quietly, his eyes never leaving Hyunwoo’s.

Hyunwoo swallows thickly and pulls out his knife, the metal gleaming even in the alley’s darkness. The setup is perfect: a dead end alleyway on Yoo property. Snow and city noise to dampen the sound. Changkyun’s body would be found the next day, the logical assumption that he was murdered for breaking the truce. No one would ever suspect that he was slain by one of Im’s own men.

Changkyun reaches out and wraps his hand around Hyunwoo’s wrist, pulling the knife closer so that it presses against his neck. Hyunwoo wouldn’t have to exert much pressure to break the skin. “Isn’t this what you want, baby?” Changkyun whispers against his ear—and Hyunwoo shudders.

 _oh god_ , he exhales shakily and his body hums, heavy with what he really wants, his heart cracking under the weight of it. Forcing distance, he takes a step back. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the business, Kyun?”

Changkyun has the gall to grin, an amused flash of white in the dark. “Come on, Hyunwoo. We both know you’re too smart to believe that.”

Hyunwoo studies him: the triumphant lilt in his voice. The set in his jaw. Fire flaring in his eyes. “Are you trying to spark a war?”

Changkyun shrugs again. “Maybe,” he murmurs as he drops Hyunwoo’s wrist, the knife still pressed to his throat. He walks his fingers up Hyunwoo’s chest to his neck and pulls until Hyunwoo takes a step closer. Their breaths mix in the space between them and Changkyun pulls again until their lips practically touch. “But I don’t think it’s the kind of war you’re thinking.”

Hyunwoo groans when their lips meet, his eyes fluttering closed as he’s struck with sensation: the warmth of Changkyun’s body against his, the softness of his lips, the pressure of the blade in his hand still pressed against Changkyun’s neck.

“You’ll keep my secret from the boss, won’t you, baby?” Changkyun whispers hotly against his lips and Hyunwoo almost laughs at the absurdity. They both know he would never spill Changkyun’s secret, even if that breaks the oath Hyunwoo has taken to forever be loyal to Mr. Im—above everyone else, including the mafia leader’s own son. His lips are sealed—even if upholding the oath would save his own life. Even if it would save the empire.

Within a heartbeat he’s alone, a rush of cold air replacing the warmth encompassing his body only moments before. His eyes shoot open just as a slim crevice in the wall closes, sealing itself once again. He heaves in a breath and releases a low chuckle, partly disappointed that he’s failed his job, but mostly exhilarated that Changkyun has escaped. Again.

Curious, he scrutinizes the wall, the brick, the mortar, searching for irregularities. Searching for the passage. With an amused shake of his head he finds nothing amiss, a small smile curling his lips.

Then he feels a tug deep in his lungs. A clog in his chest that burns and he doubles over, clutching his heart, grappling in the snow as he chokes and coughs. He presses the knife’s blade to his chest, wishing desperately to cut out his lungs, carve out the heart that bleeds and aches, far too soft. Far too open. Fire and metal scratch his throat and he coughs out a single petal—pale pink.

Tears gather in his eyes, salty and desperate as something long and rough scratches his tongue; with shaky fingers he drops the knife and pulls out a stem, delicate petals billowing out of his mouth onto the ground in front of him, a splatter of carmine follows, rich and velvety against the perfect white of the snow. 

_Blood_ , Hyunwoo thinks as he picks up one of the red-streaked petals. Crimson tinges his fingertips and he drops it next to the other pieces of the camellia, swallowing droplets of hot metallic blood and a stray torn petal.

His heart squeezes, leaking a slow drip of longing into his veins and he tastes it on his tongue as he pushes up off the ground, his limbs still trembling. Clouds blot out the moon, providing a veneer of cover. Safety. He shoves his numb hands deep into his pockets, sticking to the shadows until he reaches his own territory. He sucks in a deep breath, readying himself for the meeting. Mr. Im’s impending wrath. However brutal the next few hours may be, it isn’t fear making his lungs tight.

Something tickles the back of his throat—a harbinger—and he coughs just once, an airy rasp as dread creeps up his neck. Even as his throat begins to convulse, he only yearns to see Changkyun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♡


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